


x

by sakurachan811



Category: Metal Family (Cartoon)
Genre: Canonical Child Abuse, F/M, Food Issues, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Miscarriage, Mpreg, Non-Chronological, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Past Child Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, References to Depression, Scent Marking, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-19
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:01:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25986292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sakurachan811/pseuds/sakurachan811
Summary: Victoria knows omegas aren't supposed to pursue alphas, that's not how it works.
Relationships: Sebastian Shvagenbagen/ Victoria
Comments: 4
Kudos: 37





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Edit: Holy crap you guys I just watched the two interviews with the creators and I think I wrote Sebastian wrong?  
>  What I learned from the interviews was:
> 
> Glam works in the music industry, gives private lessons to those with talent.
> 
> Gustav hunted for sport years ago.
> 
> Victoria and the Kids don't know about Glam’s past.
> 
> He might have said some stuff in passing.
> 
> He wouldn't tell Victoria about his past unless she was pulling the answers out of him.
> 
> Alpha Victoria  
> Alpha Gustav Shvagenbagen  
> Omega Mrs. Shvagenbagen  
> Omega Sebastián "Glam" Shvagenbagen  
> Alpha Lydia Shvagenbagen  
> Beta Ches  
> Beta Rowd

Victoria knows omegas aren't supposed to pursue alphas, that's not how it works. But when he chases her down just to give her her keys back, he just so determined. When in the hospital, he presents her keys with all the reverence of a courting gift. And later when they had both healed he had presented her with sketches of her in surprisingly high quality. She could be forgiven for thinking he was just a young recently bachelored alpha. When he says no and even lets her take several breaths of his scent to confirm it. He stays still and blushes at her curious snuffles.

She always thought she would end up with another alpha not omega. Almost everyone in her family were alphas both men and women. She had been the smallest of her mothers pups growing up. So she's not as tall as her brothers or sisters, but she's certainly built as thick as they were. If she ever chose to carry pups it would be no problem.

When they talk more he lets slip that he's never been courted by anyone, because his parents had been so sure he would be an alpha. Even highschoolers had tried their hands at courting, alpha or not. They go on motorcycle rides, she teaches him how to ride a motorcycle, they go to movies and concerts. She can't afford to give him what he deserves, but she'll be damed if she didn't try.

She gives him the first gift after a ballet concert. Guitar picks and leather polish, she holds them out. “For you. ‘Cause I know ya lost one the other day.” he takes it carefully and his eyes are bright, taking in the Victoria’s delighted preening as he says, “Thank you, Alpha.”

She likes the way he goes flushed and smells pleased every time he gets a gift, any gifts she gives him are small and practical: new guitar picks, some leather polish, a book she saw him eyeing the other day. There is almost no production to it. She will stride twords him and rub her fingers over his arm before dropping her newest offering into his hand.

Now gifts of food came with every courting gift,  
It was growing colder, the meaning of the gifts changed: a spare set of motorcycle keys, his favorite make up , a ceramic mug and a bag of his favorite coffee blend, and finally a set of the softest blankets she's ever come across. When the air was biting and there was snow on the ground she asked him "Do you want to move in with me?"  
He says yes.

After he'd moved all his things to her home, it didn't take long before before they were settled and he began to build a den. She would bring him things for their den every few days. He hadn't been able to have one before, it felt right to have these things that smelled of her arranged just so, their scents mixing. She was always so keen to scent him, rubbing against his throat and ear so that everyone would know who he belonged to. After all, they were technically an unmated, courting pair.

She made sure that he ate every day, even when the voice of his father still hissed in his ears that he was worthless and that any pups he bore would be weak like him. For so long he thought that no one would want him, he may have been of good breeding but he was a male omega, and had been rendered both scarred and packless. He was damaged goods, he knew that, she knew that, she didn't care.

They had been concerned if he would be able to carry any pups to term. He was just so thin, all birdlike bones and lean compact muscle. He was scared, he didn't grow up with a proper pack, when he lived with Ches in what had amounted to an underaged bachelor pack. His sleep schedule and eating schedule had been eratic at best during those years.

One day he asks:  
"What would people say if you carried my pups Vicki?"  
"Fuck 'em," she snarls out " They don't know shit Glam."  
"Ok," he says into her jacket.

When it's six pm, she struts into their living room with dinner. Glam’s head snaps up, tracking the Alpha’s movements.  
She smells...different.  
She always smelled musky and sharp and mouth-wateringly good. He whines a little and then he freezes.  
“Glam?” she murmurs, her voice pitched low and curious and he blinks, shakes himself out of it, and forces a smile.  
“Sorry”

She shrugs, and watches him as she settles across from the Omega, laying the food out and waiting patiently until Glam begins eating.

They don’t talk, but then they don’t usually talk, when she brings him food, something he appreciates right about now. Today Victoria has a day off, after dinner she sprawls across their couch and watches him read until she falls asleep there. She’s distracting, with her heavy scent and deep breathing and the deceptively soft curve of her lips. His gaze slowly tracks down, down, down over her sleeping form, and snags on her crotch.

She’s an Alpha, and she’s big, even sleeping and soft, Glam's mouth waters a little, thinking about it. He almost falls out of his chair as he jerks back, so startled that he curses.  
“Shit,” She groans, dragging herself upright. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep.” she smiles sheepishly at him.  
“It’s OK, sweetheart.”

She grins at that, blushing the way she always does when he uses the endearment. She stands and stretches, her shirt riding up to expose a thin line of her belly and he bites his lip to keep from whining. Then she’s squeezeing one of Glam’s shoulders, and walking away. “I'll be back later, Glam.”

She’s gone before he can respond, and he almost collapses into his chair, the scent of his Alpha washing over him, and the undeniable urge to beg for Victoria's knot still pressing against his teeth. The scent doesn’t go away. It gets thicker and richer sometimes, and Glam bristles, when she comes to the house smelling like anyone he doesn’t know. He wants to rub against Victoria, wants to cover her in his scent and bite her neck, claim her so every bitchy Alpha or Omega knows she’s taken.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: implied expected rape/non-con
> 
> Biology explained: both male and female Alphas and Omegas are intersex, both can have successful pregnancies. Betas are not intersex,
> 
> Heat/Rut: their secondary sex expresses itself at the onset of puberty, it is a 28-32 day cycle and lasts 5-7 days long
> 
> Pre heat/Pre rut: starts 3-4 days before the onset of heat or rut.
> 
> Social hierarchy: Glam grew up in a very traditional household, He has internalized his father's views on sexes to some degree.  
> Ex. it's shameful that he, first born son is an omega.

He's not suprised when later that week he goes into his first real heat in years.They almost don't make it to his nest before she's tearing at his clothes.  
“Mine,” she slurs, licking at his throat. “My Omega.”  
"Your's," he pants out.

He thinks she ripped off the button in her haste to unzip his pants, he's so desperate he doesn't care. He's crying with relief her fingers were finally sinking inside him. He orgasms convulsively around his loves fingers. He's so full, he's never been this full. His fingers had never been quite enough to satisfy the burning ache. He whines high in his throat when she removes them, but he goes very still when she stretchs out over him, kissing the line of his throat and pressing her teeth into his glans. 

He gasps her name again and spreads his legs further to better cradle her hips, he's never spent his heats with anyone before. When he was a young teenager he'd spend all his heats locked in his room. He remembers his body burning as his teeth grit to keep in his tears of shame, as his hand worked in two then three fingers into himself. The other occupied pinching his nipples and jaw clenched tight trapping any noises his body might make.

He smells blood, his. He'd bitten through his lower lip. She sits up, running a hand through her sweaty bangs, he can see her erection straining the fabric of her jeans.

"Glam, get up."

"Sorry," 

Briefly he expects her to be angry, he'd just denied an alpha her right to breed him, he expects her to pin him, to order him to be still, to bite him even if he cried. She doesn't do any of those things. She's nothing like his monstrous alpha of a father, Instead she stands. He follows her, his head lowered submissivly. 

She brings him to the bathroom, orders him to sit. Then runs him a bath. He gets undressed, revealing his body, even with Victoria's care he was still too thin, male omega's were usually slim and dainty, but they also had a layer soft fat that he doesn't. She stays, even when he can't meet her eyes. She helps him wash, knowing he's shaky, her calloused hands are gentle, avoiding his overly sensitive nipples and swollen cunt.  
She helps him step out of the bath and into her arms, she helps him towel off before wrapping it securely around him. He trails behind her back into their bedroom feeling very small.

She gives him one of her shirts, on her it would be almost too tight, displaying her powerful form, a true alpha, regardless of primary sex.  
But on his frame it hung of his shoulders, despite his unusual height for an omega he was much lighter than her. She tells him to lay down, he obeys without question. She gets into bed, clasps him to her ample chest, curling around him, pressing one of her thick thighs between his legs to help relieve the ache of an unsatisfied heat. She was so good to him, she truly was. That's how he sleeps for the next several days, his body covered in the scent of his mate-not yet mate. Safe in their new den.

She would bring him off with her fingers and teeth and tounge. He wasn't well enough to take her knot yet. So instead of her being properly satisfied, she spent his first few heats bringing him off and feeding him up.

As he grew closer to the age he would present, his father grew ever stricter. He'd had his first heat at thirteen, it was agony, his body burned with fever. He was sweating so much that his sheets stuck to him his hair was matted with sweat. The seat of his pants was soaked through with slick. His father had burst in, dragged him to his feet, grabbed him by his upper arm. And dragged him sweating and crying into the bathroom. He ripped his clothes off him and turned on the water on full blast in their shower before roughly shoving him in.

"Sebastian, my only son, an omega, how disgusting." he spits before slamming the bathroom door closed. He'd expected it to hurt, after his first heat. His mother had sat him down and told him what he was to expect, that he would never disobey his alpha, that he had to be escorted by an alpha at all times, that he would be married off before he was eighteen like she was. After running away from home and becoming stray-not a stray. When living with Ches there just wasn't enough food, so as unhealthy as it he went without having heats for much longer than he should have. When he did have them they were short and sporadic. Ches would leave him with a bottle of water and canceled any concerts they had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Social hierarchy: Glam grew up in a very traditional household, He has internalized his father's views on sexes to some degree.  
> Ex. it's shameful that he, first born son is an omega.  
> Warning: implied expected rape/non-con he fully expects to have sex with Victoria, even if he's not healthy enough. He feels guilty that he wasn't able to properly "satisfy" her.
> 
> Glam's personality is more subdued than in cannon, he was abused more by his father on top of what we've seen in cannon.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> she stares at her mates sleeping face. She thinks that It will be hard on them.
> 
> warning this chapter contains a non graphic miscarriage

He had a pregnancy they don't speak about. The first one, he had been so afraid that his body would fail him, he would fail them. He'd gained enough weight with how much Victoria pressed him eat, even when she wasn't home, he would find bags of jerky and granola bars labeled 'eat me' in her familar scrawl. His cycles had only just stabilized so it wasn't too odd that he'd missed one. He thought back, does some calculations, his mind blanks. Gets their calander, does them again.

His fear was the first thing Victoria smelled when getting inside their home, it hung sour and heavy in the air. This was bad, very bad. 

Victoria knows her mate had been abused.  
It wasn’t just that he was an unbound Omega in his early twenties. He never been (allowed) to be courted or courted anyone else. He'd been disowned by his pack when he was fifteen (too young). The scars on his left wrist were what worried her the most though, to be injured like that the wounds would have been inflicted several times an hour, never giving him the chance to heal.

Some nights when he would wake crying from nightmares (begging his father to stop) she would stroke his hair and nuzzle his jaw until he would fall back to sleep. After some of his worst ones she would graze her fangs against his throat and rumble low and deep in her chest until he was calm enough to talk about it. Even now he would have bad days, his eyes would be hollow, his hands shook. He'd spend hours staring at the scars on his wrists.

He hasn't had one in so long, she thought he was doing better.  
"Glam?"  
She found him curled up small on their bed.  
He raised his head, he was pale, his eyes were bloodshot, his face was covered half dried in tears.  
"Glam, whats wrong?"  
She approached him carefully before sitting next to him. She stroked his back gently, trying to think of what to say or do. She really didn't want to use her status to make him to tell her what was wrong, using that on Glam only made his bad days last longer.

She took a deep careful breath, sorting through his scent. Glam smelled upset, that much was clear from his face. He didn't smell hurt,  
but under that he smelled different, his scent was richer, riper somehow, not like when he was in heat...but, but-  
Oh, she thinks, Oh shit.  
"Glam, are you-"

But then Glam just crumpled, his head nodding in a short jerk as his face met his still too bony knees, what she could see of it twisting miserably. He was curled up so tight with his arms wrapped around his middle she doesn't think he could make himself any smaller than he was in that position. But his left hand was gently pressed low against his abdomen.  
Left.

"Oh, Glam," she says, then she just holds him, and strokes his hair and back until he uncurls slightly, leans into the hold with a wet shuddering sigh. With some minimal coaxing, she had a lap full of upset blonde.  
She spends an hour of soothing him with soft pets and deep soothing rumbles. It's not too long before he passes out from exhaustion.  
Then she removes her boots and crawls into bed. The next morning when she wakes, she stares at her mates sleeping face. She thinks that It will be hard on them, most things in her life had been so far why would it be easy now?

Weeks pass he gets sick, very sick she's pretty sure people aren't supposed to vomit this much, especially not pregnant people who had been too thin to begin with. She presses him to eat and drink as much as he can, whenever he can, it doesn't work exactly but his weight stops dropping. He'd been so relieved when the more dangerous part of pregnancy had passed. His belly starts to grow, his body changing. His stomach had rounded out softly, He rubbed his stomach harder, his fingers memorizing the solidity that had blossomed beneath his skin. The child within him fluttered, a feeling almost like bubbles or butterflies or something he couldn't name.

She catches him smiling down at his belly often, rubbing it. The best part of her day was a she would catch him humming a tune she didn't know, some sort of lullaby to their unborn.  
She scents him more than ever, the soft round curves of his fertile body calling her to reinforce her claim in any way she could. He's somehow more beautiful like this, she thinks, pregnant and soft, safe lying in their shared nest. Hers to breed, hers to protect, hers.

It all goes to shit one day in early spring, she comes home to the scent of blood.

First she thinks 'No,' then she thinks 'Glam.'  
Earlier that morning, he'd complained about being tired, he'd that there wasn't anything to worry about. He was always tired lately, she told him to get some more rest before taking several breaths of his scent, making sure that yes, he was tired, no Vicki it was ok for her to go to work, really.

She rips through their home to get to him  
The door was locked, Glam never locked her out unless he was stuck deep where his mind went during one of his worst bad days. She could smell his blood and the door was locked.  
She rips the damn thing off its fucking hinges.

"Glam!"

He was on their bed, curled up so tight that she thinks that it can't feel good for him, having his stomach in the way like that.  
"Glam!"  
His eyes were dim and his face was wet with tears, she hauls him up to get a better look at what was wrong, because--  
There was so much blood it was on his hands and his pants and the bed. Jesus, fuck!

She removes the bloody sheets and blankets, tosses them to the floor, she'll deal with that later. Glam needs her now (Glam needed her earlier, she should have taken the day off.)  
She carries him to the bathroom before gently placing him on the toilet. She takes off his (ruined) boxers and blood soaked pants. she runs him a bath, carefully running a soft soapy cloth to remove the wet gore from his thighs.

He can't be alone right now.


	4. it's only natural

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They're both drunk, which may have something to do with the choice of subject when Victoria says:  
> "Well Glam, what do you know about sex?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Introducing Drunk! Glam and more concerned! Victoria

They're both drunk, which may have something to do with the choice of subject when Victoria says:  
"Well Glam, what do you know about sex?" "Not much," he admitted. "Just the mechanics from my tutors. It is not like I had much chance to experiment or read about it when living with Ches."

"So You've never been with anyone?"  
He colors, his scent changes, reeking of embarrassment. "No, I've never even been courted, why would I have?" He's nervous, so nervous his mouth was dry, he swallows spasmodicly. He aims for a casual "Have you?" She snorts, finishes her beer in one swallow. God, there’s nothing like the taste of a crisp cool beer.  
"Well yeah, but it was only to blow off some steam, nothing to it." She says wiping her mouth with a fist. 

His long slender fingers taped the rim of his glass lightly. He'd crossed his ankles, and the jacket Victoria gave him hung tied around his slender hips. She stared at him, looked from his loose open shirt down to his skinny knees. He gave an awkward laugh, a sweet sort of shy giggle. Then he reached to fidget with one of of his wristbands, she was quickly learning meant  
'I'm nervous'.  
"Glam?" She says. His blue doll-like eyes were getting glassy. "Mmm?"  
She stared at him. "You're drunk,"  
"No!" He said, too quickly. "It's just, I never-"  
"Aw, it can wait until tomorrow," she cuffed his shoulder lightly.

"Let’s get you home," She moves to offer him a hand up. Her hands were only half the size of his own, calloused and strong. He stands, "I'm fine," He said quickly. She shot him a considering look. "Is that what you think?" She asks.  
"Probably?" he asked weakly. Then he's shaking his head. His hair was curlier from sweat, bouncing against his neck and ears. He was flushed in a way that had nothing to do with the heat. "You ever got this sloshed before?"  
"Yes," He said confidently. "But not lately, I have before. I was a real, uh animal at Chesnok's."

When they leave the bar she's sure he won't be able to hold on if she drives. She settles in for a long walk with a drunk and handsy suitor.  
"Victoria," He leans into her  
"I live here, um..." His voice trailed off, He had forgotten. "Around there," he gestures vaguely, stumbles a little. "I remember," she said. He was so delicate and fine boned, as he tipped his head the curve of neck caught in the lamplight, and she simply wanted to...hold him a bit, thats all, yeah. "You're not yourself."  
He snorted. "What? I'm the same me I've always been."  
His house couldn't come up fast enough she thinks.

Looking down at her from under his long, delicate lashes. He swallowed thickly. He paused gathering his courage. "Vikki," he said hurriedly.  
"Do you want to-"

His skin fairly glowed, its luminescence starker against his blush, and his blue eyes looked huge in his face. His plush pink mouth was parted in question. Fuck it, any Alpha worth their knot would want to be with him.  
"You're home," she says, she needs to leave before they do anything he'll regret. A smile moved slowly over Glam’s face and he nodded, then he looped his thin arms around her neck. "Will you kiss me?" he whispered, leaning in close enough to lick Victoria’s cheek. "Make me feel better?"

She shuddered. "You don't need to-I mean, that's not-" "Victoria" he laughed, again wriggled, trying to press closer against her body. "Kiss me,"  
"Glam," she says meaning to push him away. But she couldn't resist the way his hands were drawn to his body. They settled on his hips, and she choked a little bit when she realized she could almost circle Glam’s entire waist with the span of her hands. 

His hands were in her hair now, tuging, loosening the braid she'd placed there that morning, running his fingers through the thick strands. "Please?" he crooned, "Just once,"  
He whispered. "Alright," she says, before tipping his chin down and kissing his soft lips. He tasted sweet, his mouth was warm and smooth. She drew back after a moment, searching his face. "Good?"

He gave a strangled moan, squeezed Victoria's waist in an answer and she kissed him once more, licking into his mouth to taste the eager sounds he was making. She clutched at his slim thighs with a groan. "Victoria," He pressed a another kiss to her mouth, pulls back biting his bottom lip sharply. "Stay the night with me?" he whispered.  
"No," she said quickly, but her protest was weak. "We shouldn't Gl-"  
"Stay with me," he said insistently.  
"Not tonight," she says.  
"I'll see you tomorrow." she promises

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fuck you Gustav.


	5. After Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Too much booze and too little food again, Ches would kill him if he saw him like this again. He'd deserve it too,  
> Dammit what has he done?

He tosses his shirt and kicks off his boots before falling roughly into his bed. The next morning when he gets up he curses a blue streak, staggers into the bathroom to vomit. Too much booze and too little food again. Ches would kill him if he saw him like this, again.

Head cradled in his hands, his naked back settles against the cool-feeling porcelain. The knobs of his spine press uncomfortably against it. He stands up, ignoring how badly the room spins. His head pounds furiously as he scrubbed his face, scrubbed hard, harder, and he choked on the scalding water. His bangs drip lightly against the tip of his nose. His head tilts forward. His thoughts keep nawing at his brain. Over, and over, and over.  
Dammit what has he done?  
He doesn't-he's never acted like that before when drunk. When he had lived with Ches he started drinking. It was only every once and awhile, after they'd have a long stretch of gigs.

There were nights where he would stumble out of bed, still shaking from nightmares, he'd reach for the half finished beer cans Ches allways had laying around. He'd fall back into a dreamless sleep once he had a good buzz going. The next morning he vomits up a stomach full of beer. He doesn't have a problem, the nightmares, the fact that he goes tense every damn time he hears the violin, that he can't bring himself to go anywhere near the other side of town, this is getting ridiculous it's been almost a year. They can't touch him anymore. 

When Chesnok finds him, head half in the toilet. Having vomited the mostly alcoholic contents of his guts out for the third day that week. Chesnok explodes at him, he hasn't seen him that angry since. Chesnok tells him eyes hard that he wasn't allowed to drink anymore, he can't keep doing this to himself.They take a break from shows for a while, Chesnok says that he should eat more, that he's starting to scare their fans with how thin he's getting. Maybe go to the doctor?  
He refuses a doctor out of reflex, but he bends on the eating, with Chesnok properly mollified, he takes his next course of action. He's still working on being a real person and not a puppet, but he's getting there.

He's walking with Victoria to a restaurant that she likes when it happens.  
"So what happened with you last night?" She asked.

She asks, so he tells her so. Not about his father’s obsession with his weight, or the booze soaked father-son conversations. But why he doesn't eat the way she does, then it gets colder. She starts plying him with food, nothing ridiculous. Just small snacks really.  
Some Pastilla one day, the next she gives him piroshki, still warm.  
Another day she presents him a small chocolate charlotte cake. If his hands shook when he ate it, it's just because of the cold. (Too fat his father’s voice hisses over and over.)  
She drags him to all her favorite places to eat until he has her orders memorized and a favorite of his own. Overall it's enough to add more lustre to his hair and extra color to the apple of his cheeks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning: Glam's PTSD underage drinking, food issues 
> 
> You can take Underaged drinking Glam from my cold dead hands


	6. Drifter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Her own childhood had been rough, she knew that her parents loved them. She and her siblings all scrabbled for attention sure, most of her clothing were hand-me-downs from her smallest brother. Their parents took the best care of them they could. Unlike the blonde male she was currently courting

Her own childhood had been rough, she knew that her parents loved them. She and her siblings all scrabbled for attention sure, most of her clothing were hand-me-downs from her smallest brother. Their parents took the best care of them they could. Unlike the blonde male she was currently courting. No wonder he'd never realized how beautiful was (His parents threw him away.)

Things changed after her brother died in a fight over territory. She took his position at their shop. (She drops out of school to do so, it's fine, she doesn't think she'll graduate anyway.) Her dad starts drinking his weight in booze so she takes over for him too. When she turns eighteen cuts her ties and leaves with little more than her (dead) brother's clothes on her back and next to no money to her name.(Packless) She starts picking fights, and she wins and wins, she keeps winning. She drifts from city to city, picking up odd jobs at repair shops always pushing down the need to settle.She finally caves, gets herself a small apartment. She works at a local repair shop. There's still a burning in her blood, her claws itch. She joins a club called 'The Morning Beavers', establishs her place there.

They were alone at her garage where she worked on her bike. Normally he'd just be content to watch her work in her element. Sometimes he'd present her with a sketch or two of her at work.(She keeps all of his gifts in a solid oak chest in her bedroom.)But today, he kept fiddling with the coverings on his wrists.(nervous habit) She keeps him in the corner of her eye just in case.

She'd thought he kept his wrists covered because he was traditional, then she thought he kept them covered because they were sensitive,(some people do it to avoid having them brush against others) maybe he had a bad experience on the transport. She's heard of omegas being felt up in public before. She decides to take a break, maybe ask Glam if he wanted to go eat some pizza with her.

He hops down from the chair he was sitting on. There's a slouch in his shoulders, a nervous tick in his fingers. His eyes darted from corner to corner, never really looking straight at her. She swallows something heavy inside her chest.  
"Glam?"  
She turns to face him fully, because-because something in the way he's acting is causing Victoria’s stomach to twist. She watches him swallow, sees his adams apple bob.  
He says "Victoria, I want to show you something." And she knows from the way he says it that it's nothing good. He pulls off his wristbands and turns his inner wrists to her.  
All Victoria sees is red.

When he presented his wrists to her, he doesn't like how her scent goes sour, bitter, sharp in an instant. She stares at his wrists, stares for a very long time, even though it's probably only a couple of minutes. He tenses when she reaches out, holds his wrist. He goes utterly still, stops breathing even, when she kissed his scars. The he'd tears shed had been shameful, but not too surprising.  
He’d been holding them in since the evening before, he’d been too nervous to eat properly in last twenty four hours. He felt like his stomach was full of pins.

(That was bad, he knows Victoria would be disappointed)  
(She deserves to know, if- if continues to where he thinks it is.)

She uses her hold on his wrist to tug him into a firm a hug, she smells his tears and listens to his uneven breathing. He kisses the underside of her jaw. (sorry) she tightens her grip. And then suddenly he's kissing her, he's kissing her and he's still crying. The kissing was nice but the crying, even though he didn't smell of sadness anymore, was not. 

Victoria makes a hard decision, she pressed him back against the chair, moving to let him go, give him space. But he clings so tightly that she can't. Using her free hand she touches his face, watches him close his eyes and lean in.

Against her hand, his jawline feels too sharp. 

She takes a few steps back, still bearing his weight presses him right up against the wall instead.

His hips stuttered forward against her thigh. He tosses his head back, offering his throat to her. And god if that wasn't underwear soaking material, nothing is.

Her brain tells her posture, her every instinct alive. Her tounge tracing a hot line along his throat, when she laps at the hickeys she's sucked into his skin, the small noise he makes was seemingly made to go straight to her dick. He'd hooked his teeth into her neck, his point was clear. He huffs, tongue lapping at the bite.It wasn't a real mating bite, but he will, when their den was prepared and he was healthy, for her he will.

He presses closer into her warmth, breathing in her scent, almost preening under her attention. He can feel his body start to relax.   
Only to be disturbed by the noise of someone whistling appreciatively; An intruder, male, Alpha.  
She immediately drags him further behind her, he feels her body coil and he knows she’s preparing to fight. 'There’s a threat' his brain supplies uselessly, 'Victoria is protecting you.'  
The person flashes their hands up in surrender.(this was her territory) Victoria answers in a deep rumbling growl he can feel in his bones. Glam echos her, snarls flashing his fangs.  
He knows how they must look. Wrecked, high on pheromones and aggressive. He feels a self-satisfied haze come over him. 'Yes,' he thinks 'be afraid. My alpha is strong, she'll destroy you.' 'This is her territory after all, and he was hers.'  
The offending Alpha bolts.

Everything feels hazy. Victoria is still wrapped around him. She’s trying to shield his body from view. He feels touched. He likes it, likes her so, so much.  
she's holding his hand and their running, running isn't like her, he's struggling to keep up. She decides to just carry him, he takes deep breaths of the wintery air and listens to the crunch of her boots in the snow.

"God, Glam you smell like you're practically in heat already,"

“I know.” She starts a little when he says it and a deep flush works its way up her neck. She ducks her head to check on him and he can smell her pleasure. Her satisfaction at that statement.  
She puts him down only to free her hands enough to get her keys, before he knows it they're in her apartment and in her bedroom.

She's guiding Glam to the rumpled bed, then she kicks off her shoes collapsed back onto the sheets. She tells him to sleep at some point. She lays awake for hours, just listening to his even breathing. She can’t sleep because everything is cold and her skin feels raw. She never runs, never backs down, she was too proud to. She will not, no, can not risk him.

She gets up to make a pot of tea, she almost feels bad when Glam stirs a little before rolling over. She's comforts herself with knows that she isn't really leaving.

Tray in hand, she knocks on the frame of the door.  
The bright white light of the afternoon sun outside provided enough light that Victoria could see the shallow angles of his sunken cheekbones. His blond hair was messy and sticking up at odd angles. His head snapped up he blinked at her, smiled.   
She sets the mugs down, he peeled back the blankets pats the bed in invitation. They sat in silence, drinking their tea. Somehow, Glam still managed to look pretty while bedraggled. His posture remained perfect. He stared at her, only sometimes he looked at the wind that whipped sheets of snow outside.

She eyed him, she should have caught on months ago. But she can't go back and change things now she can try to make sure her mate is getting a decent night's sleep safe and comfortable. 

"Vikki, the people at your club, do they challenge you?" 

Victoria shrugged. “Most of them. It’s pretty bad for of them. They needed someone to keep them in line." So why did you? Was his unspoken question.  
She took a deep breath.   
"I don’t think that's going to be me."  
“I know.”  
“I wasn’t going to-”   
“I have scars too,” Glam blinked, taken aback by her sentence.  
“Oh,”  
“I know,” 

Glam continued to stare at her as she twisted her fingers together. The emotion those blue eyes were electrifying. 

“Their all from territory fights, they’re pretty terrible." She continued. “Most are from when I was younger,”  
His mouth formed a horrified ‘O’.  
“I never run from a fight,” She turned to stare at those bright blue eyes.  
“I know,” Of course he did. 

He reached out his hand and placed it atop of hers. “Were you hurt today?”  
She gave him a smile. “No,” 

She tugged her knit hat off and brushed all her hair to the side.  
She shushed him for a second, and then took off her winter jacket. Inside, she wore a soft sweater. She took this off too. Finally, wearing only a tank top, Victoria pointed to her back and twisted around. 

Glam’s trembling hands lifted up her shirt carefully, and gasped at the sight on her back, carved from scar tissue. It ran down from the base of her neck, the worst right above her tailbone. His shaking fingers lifted up to trace the web of scarring that decorated her body. They were angry red, faded pink and white, it created a canvas of colors on her tan skin. They wrapped around her back and up and around her rib cage. 

Glam stared at her with wide eyes, letting the hem of the tank top drift back down. 

“Vikki?” His voice cracked. 

“My love?” 

Then suddenly, his arms were around her, and his nose was pressed against her, hot liquid dripped into her hair. She turned wrapped her arms around his chest, and let her own tears fall onto the sheets. 

Victoria finally allowed herself to feel exhaustion and collapsed onto her mate. She didn’t know what their future held. She didn’t know what to feel anymore. She just let herself be held by the man who will stand by her side for years. 


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Glam almost doesn’t notice when Victoria leaves the room that night. He barely hears his door open and close, barely feels her presence leave.

Whenever she sees he's awake she smiles and takes her free hand to his hair, carding through it, soothing him. Reassures herself that he is still alive. (ignores the memory of a bloody, dead-eyed mate. Her yelling at the doctor over the phone.) 

He had let grief force him a little deeper into the well of despair he resided in for weeks. But—  
he recoiled as far back on the bed as he could go, drawing his knees to his chest.  
(He can't see, he can't breathe, all he can taste is iron. He sees his father’s shadow looming over him.) His heart is pounding hard, his ears are filled with a shrill ringing.  
He's hurt and he's tired and he can't handle another beating- but then the shadow moves away, his brain finally catches up to where and when he is.  
(Not his father, Victoria) 

She's grabbing his hands by the wrist, she forced them up and open, pressed them down. Her grip around his wrist was trembling. (He'd left bruises with how tightly he'd gripped it) "Hey, look at me." Her voice was soft, no trace of alpha order to be found.  
He moves, looks in her direction, but he can't quite meet her eyes, looks at her before finally settling on her pale, tired face. She's taken care of him while he fell to peices. 

Gently, she allowed her grip on him to tighten, thumbs stroking softly across the ruined flesh. He feels too small and strained. He has to bite hard at the inside of his cheek to keep the harsh, broken noise he can feel clawing at his throat from escaping his mouth. 

Victoria loves him, Victoria would never hurt him, Victoria wouldn't want him to fall apart this way. So with that in mind, Glam (Sebastian) he? took his terror and tucked it into a box inside himself. He could do it. The last time he was allowed to be so weak, he blew up at a party, he didn’t deserve her. Even now, she’s steady, unbroken. 

“Victoria,” He whispered, voice soft and reverent.  
"Glam, want to eat lunch with me?" she says, her voice full of worn joy. 

Victoria is, befitting of her name, a whirlwind.  
All straight shoulders, brute strength, and confidence. She bears down on him with single minded focus. She wants him to get better. Glam has never in all his life met another like her. As if he could ever tell her no, as if there is anything he would not give her if he could.  
There’s no other answer he’d give, not to her 

He gets out of bed, she helps him to the shower. He takes her advice on being to shaky to shave, sits down at their table eats toasted bread with cream cheese and chopped scallion. Drinks too many cups of milky tea with honey to count. Laughs for the first time in a while teaching his love how to make things other than tea, coffee, toast or scrambled eggs. They sit down to lunches of toasted sandwiches and salads with tomato and feta. She is hopeless with a knife but is quickly improving.

He does go the doctor, shave and have dinners with with Victoria. She doesn't push him to but she doesn't stop him from going back to work. Ches visits them, they say nothing but his eyes go pained and deeply sad at his no longer round stomach. His hands curl tighter around his mug, the tea burns. 

His students say nothing about him being back so soon. The little alpha girl Olivia, apologized, once. The look on his face must have detered her from saying it again. She misses three notes-thats not like her, she avoids his eyes directly. When their next lesson ends, she grabs a small cake from her bag and shoves it into his hands, her cheeks are flushed pink. Oh, oh that's why she's acting so shy, she likes him. 

He tolerates it for a bit. She's young and this kind of behavior is common, he thanks her after each gift. His own behavior does not change, he's a professional. She gives him things bought with a rich child's allowance.


End file.
